


Matchmaker, Matchmaker

by pmastamonkmonk



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:43:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2602304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmastamonkmonk/pseuds/pmastamonkmonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyota would forever be a little bit in love with Spock</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matchmaker, Matchmaker

Nyota Uhura is an intelligent girl who knows herself well. Though it had been a mutual break up, she had ended her relationship with Spock knowing that she’d always remain a little bit in love with him. How could she not, really? He’s tall, dark, handsome, intelligent, mature… everything she had ever wanted in a man. It just wasn’t enough.

Spock is an amazing friend who is willing to do what is necessary to make her happy and deserves the same in return, so when she notices the tension in his shoulders and the way he was gritting his teeth more and more often, especially at the sight of lovey-dovey couples in the corridor, she decides to step in. It takes a bit longer than she would have liked to corner him; he continues to hide in his laboratory with “important experiments” and Kirk keeps intercepting her, trying to making sure she was coping well after the break up. Kirk. James “T for Tomcat” Kirk hunting her down and wanting to talk about _feelings_. It was something she had never expected to happen and it was knocking her a bit off kilter.

She blames Gaila’s influence on him. That girl has a way of bringing out the best in everyone, and Uhura was _still_ trying to figure out how.

After a few weeks things return to what passes for normal on the ship. Spock seems to have relaxed a bit, and Kirk is back to leering and off-color jokes and nights with the boys. It should be a relief, but Uhura was beginning to miss the more sensitive side to Kirk. She was almost ashamed to admit it, but she genuinely enjoyed his company when he wasn’t being a foul-mouthed pig, and she had noticed how Spock had benefited from his improved behavior as well.

Channeling her inner Gaila, a plan begins to form. It starts with Spock.

“The Captain? He is…” Spock pauses, “unlike what I had anticipated. He is certainly qualified, although there is still much about him still to learn,”

Nyota hums, not looking up from her PADD. They are sharing an evening in her quarters, Spock working on reports and Nyota catching up on some reading. “Hot, though,”

It takes almost everything in her not to smile as she sees Spock lower his PADD in the corner of her eye, his eyebrow raising almost to his hairline. “Are you insinuating an attraction to the Captain?”

Oh not good, very not good. If Spock thought she wanted Kirk this wouldn’t work at all. She plays it off. “Attraction? I’d never date the guy, but,” she shrugs, looking at him, “you can’t tell me he’s not good looking,”

“His features hold an appealing symmetry,” Spock replies, tersely. Ooh, she got a tone. Spock’s looked more than once, then. “However, his behavior and mannerisms leave much to be desired,”

Nyota smiles, nodding absently as she returns to her PADD. She had known this wouldn’t be easy, but it seems as though it won’t be impossible.

.........

Kirk is, surprisingly, the easy one to order around. He questions often, but generally does as she asks – apparently still looking out for her emotional well being, the misguided idiot. When she requests he cease telling off-color jokes around her – and with that, also Spock – he does. Her musing that his diminished whoring-habits have raised her esteem of him brings his one night stands to even fewer in number. And the notion that using his extended vocabulary will help shake some of the uncertainty about his captaining abilities has him bring out words like _moribund_ and _sacrosanct_ in conversation, making Spock’s head turn so fast she was afraid it would snap off his neck.

Spock is the pain in her ass. Every time she tries to bring the two of them together for some activity, despite both their mutual interests and Kirk’s new good behavior, Spock bristles like an angry cat and his emotional shields slam into place. It doesn’t help that, despite the positive changes, Kirk seems to turn up the ass-hat impression whenever he sees Spock alone, trying to be funny or charming in the most idiotic way, trying to show him up or challenge him with testosterone instead of brain. It’s male posturing and she has no time for it.

“You know, Kirk,” she muses, watching as Kirk takes a bite out of his fried chicken – McCoy had eaten some earlier and Kirk eats like a pregnant chick, only wanting something after he’s smelled it. “I bet if you tried being nicer to Spock, y’know… more polite? He’d probably be more open with you,”

“I’m always nice to Spock,” he replies, genuinely confused. Nyota smiles, he at least swallowed before speaking.

“Not saying that you’re without your… charms,” her tone became saccharine, “but it’s just not Spock’s thing. His humor is… different. I remember he loved your quark joke a few days ago,”

She hadn’t understood a word of it, but Spock’s mouth had trembled as if to almost _smile_. Obviously it was a good one.

Kirk’s eyes light up. It’s such a _“he likes me?”_ look she has to resist the urge to laugh. Well, well… maybe he would be even easier than she thought. “Really? He thought that was funny?”

“Practically split his sides… in a Vulcan way, of course,”

He looks thoughtful and Nyota feels some hope rising in her chest. “I stopped with the smart jokes because I thought he’d think I was doing it to show off, or exclude him from being one of the guys… does he really hate the male bonding stuff?”

“Loathes it. I don’t see why you dumb yourself down, anyway. You’re not an idiot.” He shrugs a little. “Test it out, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed. I think you two would be great friends,” at his half-hearted nod she hums. “He plays chess… you know,”

Kirk looks interested, then contemplative, spearing a few green beans on his fork and she mentally ticks a victory point.

.........

It’s a few days later on the bridge when she notices.

Kirk is staring at Spock’s ass.

Openly.

Well, openly to a linguistics master who reads body language as if it’s Federation Standard. He’s pretending to circle the room with his eyes to observe without leaving his chair, but always seems to stop while looking in Spock’s direction. It’s not _leering_ , the way he does with a Yeoman in a short skirt, but it is definitely appreciating.

She knows that Kirk had quietly offered to play chess with Spock in the rec room a few nights previous and Spock had accepted at Nyota’s urgings. She knows it went well because Spock had requested another game the next evening, and they had continued almost nightly since. From the rumor mill, the two had been enjoying an unusual camaraderie during the games, conversation coming easy and the smiles on Kirk’s face even easier, Spock looking almost relaxed.

This inspires the next stage of her plan, which happily coincides with the first bout of shore leave they’ve had in months. A bustling starbase with a healthy nightlife, the perfect backdrop to the next act.

She catches Kirk right before he beams down and makes a show of requesting his company at the bar when she joins in, not wanting to be ‘alone and easy prey so soon after losing Spock’. It’s almost too easy and he swears up and down that he is hers for the night, promising McCoy as back up if they need it. It shouldn’t be so easy to get Kirk to swear off finding a one night stand, she muses, but when she realizes that he’s doing it just to keep a friend happy with no ulterior motive, her esteem sky rockets. She gives him a big hug in gratitude before flouncing off to Spock’s quarters, holding a suitcase in her hands and a bright smile on her face. A smile she knows Spock has learned to question.

“Nyota, should you not be preparing to beam to the surface?”

“I’m here to help you prepare,” she pushes her way in, hefting the bag onto the bed and opening it.

“I do not plan to partake in shore lea-“

“Captain’s orders, you have to take at least one day,” she tugs a pair of jeans from the bag, setting them on the bed.

Spock approaches, lips pursed and arms folding behind his back. “If I must beam down, I shall do so in my uniform,”

Nyota sighs, turning to face her ex. He was looking between the jeans and the half-full suitcase on his bed with mild distaste and she recalls how much he had argued against her purchasing civilian clothes for him when they were dating. “No, you won’t.” She had learned after breaking up with him that a firm hand was the way to handle some of his Vulcan tantrums, mild as they might be. “If you’re going to go on shore leave, you’re going to dress to relax and actually have some fun. Some non-educational, social fun.” His gaze is stern, searching her face. She pulls out the big guns. “Trust me?”

He closes his eyes, tension melting from his frame so quickly she almost feels guilty. “I acquiesce to your expertise,”

Shoving some clothes into his hands, she pushes him towards the fresher, instructing him to come out so she could inspect. After much fussing – muted and with Vulcan dignity – and attempts at logical argument, Spock is standing before her in a pair of skinny jeans and a long-sleeved v-neck in a deep shade of blue. He allows, after much pleading, for her to apply the slightest line of kohl to his eyes and, while he was distracted, she manages to card her fingers through his hair, making it look like he’s just stumbled out of a dark closet with someone, before holding up a hand mirror.

His lips thin. “My appearance is unacceptable. I look depraved,”

“You _look_ relaxed,” she counters. “No one on the Enterprise crew will recognize you, and you won’t have to worry about people treating you like an uptight Vulcan since you look like one who’s rejected Surak. For one night, no prejudice or being left out or treated differently. You always say you hate that people put the kid gloves on with you,”

“It is illogical to hate behavior,” Spock looks back at his reflection but does not reach up to straighten his hair nor rub the makeup off. Nyota knows he is thinking of all the ways he has been treated differently for his heritage and upbringing and it makes her heart hurt.

She mentally shakes herself, “Now, your attitude. Think of it as a social experiment. You don’t have to be too expressive or anything that makes you uncomfortable… just…” she bites her lip, considering. “Pretend you’re playing chess and you know your opponent is about to move into a trap, like you’ve got all the cards and there’s no way to stop you from winning,”

“What purpose would that serve me?”

“You’ll know when the purpose is met,”

Spock looks like he wants to argue, and when he doesn’t Nyota chalks up another victory point.

.........

The halls of the Enterprise are vacant by the time she is ready to beam down with him, something Nyota is imminently thankful for as Spock is adamant about not being seen like this on board. Anyone who isn’t on shore leave is on duty, a skeleton crew standing while repairs are made, and she manages to sweet talk the tech manning the transporter into running to engineering long enough for her to beam Spock down without being seen.

Once she reaches the surface, she links her arm with his and proudly struts to the bar she knows Kirk will be at. Once inside, she scans the crowd and makes a bee-line.

“So I told him, time isn’t strictly linear,” Kirk is gesturing widely as he speaks to his audience of Scotty, Chekov, and McCoy over empty bottles and shot glasses. “It’s not this progression of cause to effect, but, you know, from a non-linear, non-subjective point of view, it’s more of a… knotted ball, everything sort of intersecting and overlapping and messing with everything else, and- hey, Uhura, what took you so-“

It’s almost comical, the way Kirk’s eyes widen when he realizes who is standing next to her, his jaw working uselessly before he finds his voice again.

“Oh… uh… hey. Spock. Didn’t… you don’t usually come down for shore leave,”

Spock inclines his head. “And you, Jim, do not usually speak of scientific theories of time and space,”

Kirk flounders for a minute before simply letting his mouth close and giving Spock a slow once-over. Scotty and Chekov either don’t notice the intrusion, or are simply too engrossed in the conversation as they immediately start, in a tipsy manner, questioning the theory, the younger pawing at McCoy for a pen and something to write on.

Nyota smiles, “Just figured we’d say hi so you knew I got him down here for his mandatory night of shore leave and that you’re off of babysitting duty,” she gives a wink, stroking a hand down Spock’s arm slyly. “Now, we’re gonna go get a drink, you boys have fun,”

Kirk stutters out a goodbye and she gently leads Spock to the bar, ordering drinks for the two of them before finding a table on the other side of the crowded room. One with a clear vantage point of Kirk’s table. Where she seats Spock at the perfect angle to show off both his profile and how long his legs look in those jeans.

She mentally counts down.

“Nyota, is there any reason the Captain continues to look in this direction?”

“He’s staring?” she muses, feigning innocence as she glances over. Sure enough, Kirk’s eyes continue to shoot in their direction, and it’s almost as if he has to wrestle them back to the conversation he is now only halfheartedly a part of. The gaze, when it remains on Spock, is intense, as though he is considering devouring the Vulcan. It’s exceptionally hot, and from the way Spock seems to be fighting the urge to shoot looks of his own, the sentiment is shared between them. She understands, Kirk is dressed biker chic, and she always thought he looked good in that leather jacket.

“His behavior is…” he trails off, unable to find a word. He stares directly at his drink, ear tips coloring emerald.

“Maybe he’s finally noticed how attractive you are,”

Her attempt for nonchalance fails and Spock’s gaze raises to her, eyes narrowing minutely. “Nyota…”

She smiles into her drink, “Hey, I just gave him a little push. He stares at your ass on the bridge and talks about you a lot – Leonard said so.” The backup of her opinion is exceptionally appreciated, and if this works out, she is buying that man a drink for his assistance. “He’s trying to be a decent guy for you, _and_ you said he was attractive,”

He opens his mouth to respond, finding nothing and resolutely staring down at his drink, color blossoming high on his cheeks.

“Now, you stop acting like a virgin clutching her pearls,” she did not come this far for Spock’s self-conscious streak to inhibit her, “and eye-fuck that man back!”

He stares at her, aghast. She doesn’t wilt, looking at him sternly before jerking her head in Kirk’s direction. After a moment, Spock takes a breath, eyes closed to center himself before launching a come-hither look across the room. Where he learned it she’s not sure, but it’s just rough enough so she knows he’s never used it before. Kirk’s eyes shoot wide and he manages to almost spill his drink before relaxing back into the Kirk she remembers from the Academy, complete with the dirty smirk.

After a few moments, almost to the point of being awkward for Uhura, Kirk stands, jerking his head towards the bar. “Go with him,” she urges as Kirk begins to walk. “He wants you to,”

Spock looks between them for a long moment before standing up. She leans over and gives his hand a squeeze, smiling proudly. Spock’s posture straightens, his walk confident as he follows Kirk to the bar. From this distance she can’t hear what’s being said, but it seems that while Kirk is channeling his Academy persona, it has been softened around the edges by his own actual personality. At something he says, Spock’s eyes soften at the corners and he allows Kirk to touch his arm. Kirk is smiling, not some dirty smirk, but an actual pleased smile, and when they move from the bar, it’s not towards either of the tables.

Nyota decides that she has lost her date for the evening and, really, she couldn’t be happier. Draining Spock’s abandoned glass, she picks up her own and crosses the bar to take Kirk’s vacated seat. Scotty beams at her and shifts his chair closer, entering her into the conversation easily, and all too soon she forgets to think about Spock and Kirk.

She doesn’t hear from either until shore leave is over three days later, during lunch on Alpha shift –she’s on Beta that day. When she joins Spock at his table he is the picture of Vulcan sobriety, though there is a twinkle in his eyes that suits him. His posture is subtly relaxed, and he seems to lack any tension in his frame despite his capable working persona being firmly in place – it’s a good look for him.

Kirk, on the other hand, is looking more than a little haggard, though with a slight spring in his step as he approaches the replicator. Nyota observes this from her place across from Spock, eyes following him before turning her full attention to the man before her, anxious for details.

“So,” she presses, “what happened?”

“Jim invited me to a game of chess so we could continue discussing his theory,” Spock says simply, continuing to eat his salad, betraying nothing. Pouting, she gives his foot a little kick. He relents. “I wore him out,”

“You…” she pauses, brow knitting. “You _wore out_ James “T for Tomcat” Kirk?”

Spock pierces a piece of roasted eggplant, bringing it to his mouth. Kirk walks by on his way towards McCoy’s table and pauses when Spock’s eyes rise to lock with his.

“Good afternoon, Jim,” the tone is warm, unlike any Nyota has ever heard. Warm and _dangerous._

Kirk’s breath escapes him in a choked off whine. He clears his throat, “Hey, Spock,”

“I assume you have received my missive?”

Throat working in a thick swallow, Kirk nods. “Chess tonight, right?”

Spock’s eyes close as he turns his attention back to his food, spearing another forkful of salad greens. “Do not be late,”

“Of course not,” Kirk has the decency to look offended at the very notion. 

The muscles next to Spock’s lips quiver as though he’s about to smile. “I know,” his tone is confident as he looks up at Kirk, his eyes positively glowing. The effect is obvious, leaving Kirk a stammering mess as he shuffles away to join McCoy.

Nyota watches him retreat, eyebrow raising at his stride. The spring in his step isn’t so much a spring as it is a ginger sort of hitch and ohgod. Suddenly all the pieces fit together and Nyota isn’t sure if she should be horrified or beaming with the pride. Spock did not spend three days topping Kirk. 

Except the air of smugness around his person and the way he is positively _beaming_ , as much as a Vulcan beams, say that he totally did.

Well, damn. Get some.

She laughs through her nose, unable to keep the smile from her lips. “I love you,” 

Spock looks up and the slightest of smiles tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You are quite the superlative friend yourself,”


End file.
